This forum is used to post any stories following members of the Horde, collaborative or otherwise. Alliance characters can participate too. If you expect roughly equal posting from both sides, please post to the Cross-Faction forum instead. For stories taking place in the past, please post to the Backstories forum. For projects that might benefit from one, feel free to start an OOC companion thread in the Roleplaying forum.

In the wake of the tragic, Atlantis like sinking of the original Sanctum, we all lost a treasure trove of excellent and rich stories. Only a few Bloodfury stories could be recovered, and all of the threads were fragmented and mostly lost. However, then member Narata had archived several of them, and let me know that they were still available. I am finally getting around to reposting them as time permits.

My sincere thanks to Narata for her kind and fortuitous work. This will be remembered, and deserves to be noted.

This and the other threads were works in progress, and we will pick them up as we are able. Some will have to be retconned, but then Voltaire said that history was merely a pack of tricks the living played upon the dead. Where original dates can be recovered, they will be posted as well.

This thread is meant primarily for active Bloodfury members and short stories of theirs, but posts about Bloodfury or its members by others may be posted here too. Please ask first, and apply the usual rules of clearing it with others if their characters are used. Given some past events, if you are not presently a Bloodfury Clan member, please PM me with your proposed post first. Again, the usual RP courtesies apply.

A few days after the main invasion landings in Pandaria, the third year of Horde Warchief Garrosh Hellscream.____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Bloodfury's so called 'den' had become one in musty, feral, pungent fact.

Sergeant Stonzgrinda, acting warlord and sanitation peon of the Bloodfury Clan, brushed a protesting desert rodent out of the front of the bulwark, while carrying her moist and reeking nest full of nurslings in his other hand.

"No one told me about these duties when I signed up. I could have been at the forge, hammering out a ..."

Stonz snapped his jaws shut, realizing that he was talking aloud. To himself. Again. Damn but the barracks were lonely these days. Real lonely. Probably this was one of the reasons Stonz was reluctant to simply kill the assorted bats, mammals and insects that had moved in. This was the last clutch of critters though. A final, holdout nest hidden behind a crate filled with paper wrapped sharpening stones and tins of weapons grease. He had carried out the nest, saved the paper, and stacked the sharpening stones. The clan was not prosperous these days, and waste was abhorrent to him. He had seen too much waste under the command of incompetent glory hounds. Most of them were dead. That was good. A few of them had been promoted. That was bad. He couldn't help glancing in the direction of Grommash Hold. All of it was also out of his hands now, so he discarded the useless recollections. Water over the falls. Move on.

Dragging crates into position on the ground floor of the den was the work of a moment. First, two big crates, which he covered with an old, split and often scarred pavise. Second, a smaller crate between and just behind the two large ones. "There. As fine a campaign desk as any grunt ever had." Putting salvaged papers and fresh ink and stylus on the right hand crate, Stonz sat down facing the entrance and began to write.

Sergeant Stonzgrinda was not much of a scribe and he tended to put such things off. The axe is mightier than the rune brush. Nevertheless, this one had to be written, it had to be thorough, and it had to get to the Warmistress Kil'Gora Darkhowl, wherever she might be. The shadows were getting long outside by the time he finished. He poured sand on the ink, shook it off, and rolled and sealed the scroll with red wax and the horned Horde rune. He set his eyes on the doorway to await his contact.

Something, something less than sound and less than shadow alerted Stonz to the fact that someone was standing behind him. It may have been something as subtle as displaced air, but it was enough. Whipping back to look behind him, Stonz saw his contact leaning back against the wall, relaxed looking, but that was probably a deception.

"Damn, but I hate it when you people do that!"

"You people? You mean other orcs?" No smug smile could be seen behind the orcs cloth mask, but it could be heard.

"No! I mean you sneak footed cutthroats!" Stonz growled. He really needed to control himself, but being taken off guard like that had angered him. "Here is the scroll. You are sure you can do this? It needs to go into her hands directly. No one else's. Not even her mate's."

"If a mortal can do it, I will get it to her."

"Go with honor then. May the ancestors watch over you and bring you victory."

"Thank you. And the trick is just a matter of timing and shadows, sergeant. It should be mandatory training for warriors. Lok'ar." The masked orc, whose name was not even known to Stonz, decided to walk out of the door this time. At the threshold, he actually turned and saluted, although he did not beat his chest. He simply raised a fist to his heart. He turned and was gone.

Stonz closed his eyes. "Ancestors guide you brother."

With a sigh, he gathered up the writing materials and decided to walk back into the main gates. It was purple dusk outside, and he was hungry.

Yellowed and crumpled now with travel stains and wear on its surface and edges, an unfolded parchment, its seal broken, sits under a stone weight. Mote laden sunbeams from a near window cast bright bars across the parchment, but most of the writing remains in shadow. The fading runes run in neat red columns. In Orcish, they read as follows:_______________________________________

To: Warmistress Kil’Gora Darkhowl, of the Bloodfury Clan, born to the Warsong

From: Acting Commander Stonzgrinda, of the Bloodfury Clan, born to the Whiteclaw

Lok’tar Ogar, Warmistress Kil’Gora. Strength and Honor to you, and may the spirits and ancestors watch over you and yours. I am sending this message through one who is unknown to me by name or clan, but one who has proven his worth and support to Bloodfury Clan through actions, and who assures me that if it is possible by mortals he will be able to bring this message safe into your hands.

Much has happened since you went on maternal leave. Little of the news is good, but the Clan is recovering and we press on. In order, I will present the following summaries to you:

1. Declining troop strength and leadership turnover within the Bloodfury Clan;2. collapse of the Vanguard, increased isolation and potential new alliances for Bloodfury Clan;3. escalating Hostilities with Clan Blackrock / Dark Horde;4. presumed violent confrontation between the Dark Horde and Bloodfury Clan, and loss reports for those Missing inAction and presumed dead or in hiding;5. continuity of mission and clan recovery;6. present overview of Horde war and economic achievements;7. Kosh‘harg of the vernal equinox, 3rd Year of Horde Warchief Garrosh Hellscream and decision points.

1. Declining Strength

After your departure Bloodfury continued for some time on its own momentum. After a while though, the desertions began. Few at first, and no great loss, but the loss rate did escalate. After a few months, the Runes of Command opened up for any officer. The shaman Nawzkullz seized them with the intent to preserve the clan intact and unchanged. He established himself as Vigil Keeper to await your return, and handled the day to day business of the Clan.

Maintenance is not leadership, and the clan really began to bleed out at this time of uncertainty. Eventually there were only three orcs reporting for duty. Nawzkullz, Torgal and myself. Nawzkullz suffered what he claims was some kind of psychic attack at that time. He plundered the clan vaults, transferred all of our gold, and had no recollection of these deeds. Nawzkullz rightly considered himself unfit for duty after this. He saw that I was the most active of all our comrades, and wished to make me acting commander, or duty officer. I have never been an officer, I am a simple grunt, and I refused. Nawzkullz informed me that he could compel me to take the runes and I laughed at him for this. However, the next day I found that he had stepped down. In his place was a young whelp who had not yet completed her training in the Valley of Trials! SHE had been given the Runes of Command! She informed me that she held the runes for me, at the request of Nawzkullz. She also said that if I did not take them, she would keep them, and the clan would be her to do with as she willed. I took the runes.

When I next saw Nawzkullz I demanded an explanation for his actions. He informed me that he saw my increased efforts to move the clan forward, and knew that I could keep an oath. I told him I had no intention of keeping command. He said that this was not necessary, but he did require an oath. I asked what it was. He insulted me by requiring me to do my best for the clan, which is already a given. He also said that at any time you returned in the next six months that I would return the clan to you, and that if you had not, I would continue leading until your return or find another permanent Warchief or Warmistress who was worthy of that honor. I took that oath, and remain bound by it to this day. The six months have passed, but I as acting Warchief have decided to extend them until the next vernal Kosh'harg.

Recruiting is difficult. Few orcs remain who have not been taken up into the Horde warmachine, or who are worthy and capable. Desertions continue. For every four new recruits there are three desertions. We press on, but it is slow and grinding work.

2. The Collapse of the Vanguard

Warmistress, I know the Vanguard was important to you, but it is dead. Frozentusk appears to be in receivership. It is run by a Blood Elf of no significant experience, and has one troll still on its roster. That troll has not been seen in months. I have heard that Grugek died at Wyrmrest. This is not confirmed, but he is long gone from Frozentusk. Horns of the Shu'Halo looks strong on paper, but they remain in their lodges in Thunder Bluff. Perhaps this is because of current political tensions. I have spoken to their Chieftain, and offered our support in rebuilding Horns if we could be of any assistance. He was polite but placid about the situation. We are all that remain in Kalimdor. Vanguard is a name now. It has passed into history. We still live and we press on.

You will remember our difficult relations with Clan Blackrock. They grew far worse under the successor organization Dark Horde. As Bloodfury weakened, they grew stronger. They had more members, more activity, and frankly more ferocity. I regret to inform you that Leppender Steelspine is fallen. She died in some random skirmish in Shadowmoon in the Old World. Our clan's weakness, and my own newness to command may have prompted Ripgut to make his move, as we were at our most vulnerable. Warlord Ripgut mocked me about the decline of our clan, but told me I was worthy to enter their ranks as the lowest common soldier, provided I developed a taste for bootpolish. I replied that when the last Blackrock was buried, a Bloodfury boot would tamp down the soil and pray to their ancestors for them. I spoke out of stubborness and pride at the time, as we were few and they were many. But my promise was kept. Bloodfury honor is true.

I put a spy into Dark Horde and was able to monitor them to an extent, but not enough as things turned out. Eventually, blood was drawn, and it was ours. I was called to the Den by the bearer of this report who found Chander, and saved him. He refuses to name himself, but has proven his goodwill to my satisfaction.

The shaman was bleeding from several deep wounds. What he told me made my blood boil and freeze by turns. Warlord Ripgut had in the dark of night, armed and armored, attacked Chander at his rest and overcame him. Ripgut then abducted his nieces, Leppender's children. We learned later that they were subjected to forbidden warlock sorceries from our darkest days. Their growth was forced, and these two innocents were turned into fully ripened orcesses, yet with the minds of the children they still were in spirit and in their hearts. By last report, they were not being physically harmed. Nevertheless, we decided as a clan, that at that point we were on a war footing with Dark Horde. We barely made a squad, but there is a time to take a stand whether there is any chance of victory or not.

4. Presumed battle between the Dark Horde and Bloodfury Clan, and loss reports for those Missing inAction and presumed dead or in hiding.

Warmistress, as we who remained prepared to die, the Dark Horde ceased to exist even more quickly than it arose. Half of what remained of our active duty orcs suddenly disappeared, notably Kurgutz, Luuhk and Chander, but others too. At the same time, Dark Horde dissolved in some mutiny, desertion or other calamity which remains unclear. At the same time, both clans were shattered, with Dark Horde now becoming a mere band of brigands called Road Warriors, and Bloodfury back to only a half dozen orcs. I have searched high and low, and spoken with many. I am left to assume that some desperate battle was fought without my knowledge, and that if there are any survivors, they are few and fugitive. Batakru, Chander, Kurgutz, Luuhk and others are simply gone. The whereabouts of Leppender's daughters is not known to me, but I continue to search. One I had promised would always have the clan to watch her back. I will not renege on that promise. I also regret to inform you that Murrough has never reported back. He was with the navy, desperate battles have been fought, and I am left to presume he has been lost at sea. We are a remnant now, but Bloodfury dies hard.

5. Continuity of mission and clan recovery.

Warmistress, above all things, to our dying breath, we press on. Recruitment continues, and we do as much as we can with who and what we have. As a jest of the Ancestors, the dissolution of Clan Blackrock began the recovery of Bloodfury Clan. One of their most capable officers, Sisanej, was the first to come to us, seeking a new home. I was reluctant at first for obvious reasons, but she convinced me that she had no hand in or knowledge of the attacks on Leppender's family, or knowledge of the disappearance of either Bloodfury or Blackrock personnel. She convinced me of her honor and her zeal to serve. I signed her on. She has since risen almost overnight to the rank of Kor'kron. My decisions regarding Sisanej are the best ones I have made. Other Blackrock orcs followed, and Bloodfury Clan today is an alloyed metal of both clans. Features of both can be seen. Each alloy has been made stronger and benefited from the other. We are no longer divided, orc against orc.

We are and will remain committed to the principles Thrall showed us. We return to the ways of our ancestors, and we will not just claim, but will in fact embody strength and honor. At the command of Horde Warchief Garrosh Hellscream, Bloodfury Clan was in the very first wave hitting the beaches at Pandaria, and our clan banner was placed with others in the steaming ruins of Thunder Hold even as fires were catching and fresh blood spread across the tiles beneath our feet. I know this because I planted the banner there myself. Kor'kron Torgal remains behind to secure the Old World and the old territories of Azeroth, and Kor'kron Sisanej is reserve to switch back and forth as needed. Presently she is in Pandaria to free me for duties back in Orgrimmar.

6. Present overview of Horde war and economic achievements.

Under Warchief Garrosh Hellscream, we have spent our last coppers and mine and harvest without stop to feed the Horde warmachine. We attack in all directions at once. We do not shrink from frontal assaults on prepared positions, without regard to fatigue , hunger or depleted supplies or inferior numbers. We do not have reserves, as all of them are committed, save for a rather heavy guard of Kor'Kron in Grommash Hold and around Orgrimmar, which is finally repaired. I remember you as a cunning and sophisticated strategist and tactician. I am sure you regard these economic and military policies with all the joy and enthusiasm that I do. We do as we must, with what we have.

We did not fail to observe the past autumal Kosh'harg. By my orders, all available orcs observed the sacred day. Both of them; Nawzkullz and Sisanej. Nawzkullz declared that all requirements were met. Male and female, old and young, tales, recollections, competitive games and the reverence of our ancestors. We have kept our faith.

7. Kosh‘harg of the vernal equinox, 3rd Year of Horde Warchief Garrosh Hellscream and decision points.

Warmistress, I pledged to hold the runes of power until you returned, or a permanent worthy successor was found. I swore to do this until the Kosh'harg just past. Of my own will, I have renewed that vow until our observance of the vernal equinox coming. After that, we must press on with or without you, and the runes will no longer be held for your hand. Always and forever, if I have anything to do with it, you will always be on our roster and welcome to return. But command will have passed to another.

There are some who name you as a deserter. Some say your name should be stricken. I hear these people, but I will not heed them. I know that if you have not returned to us, it is because you are not able. Nawzkullz assures me that you live, and that you are a mother. More than that he cannot see, and I do not inquire into his occult practices as it makes both of us uncomfortable.

Warmistress. Know that you are honored. Know that you are missed. Know that to the best of my ability to the last bit of body, soul and spirit that I have, I will do all in my power to keep Bloodfury honorable, alive, and strong, in that order.

Send word if you are able. Come to us if you can. If you can do neither, I will assume you cannot.

Strength and honor, Warmistress Kil'Gora Darkhowl of the Bloodfury Clan. May your ancestors guide and watch over you.

Stonzgrinda. Grunt and acting Warchief of the Bloodfury, the finest orc warband that ever was.

There was really nothing finer than standing on one of the mesa tops of the Barrens. Of course, the Barrens were not as they had been. Hacked in half during the Cataclysm, and with a miasma of dirty yellow smoke or fog drifting in from the Northeast, from Orgrimmar. Once, running through the Barrens under the moons had been the height of freedom. It seemed like he could run forever back then. The Barrens were whole, mounts were rare, and he had been younger. Better days. Simpler days. All he had to do was carry an axe and win his fights. Thrall had been in his prime, and so had the Horde.

Stonz was starting to feel hemmed in now. Almost cornered. He rolled the runes of command back and forth in his calloused palm like dice. In a way, they were dice, and whoever held them had to decide whether to gamble bold or cautious, the stakes being lives and honor, to win or to lose. He tended towards caution, but that would change. It had to.

He reached up to rub his temples and inadvertently brushed the iron circlet he wore instead of a good honest helmet these days. The damned thing was tight, and it hurt when he took it off too. Right now though, he was stuck with it.

Three Kosh'harg celebrations had rolled by since the Warmistress Kil'Gora Darkhowl had taken a leave of absence after her marriage. Five seasons. She had planned on five weeks. There was still no word. He doubted now that there ever would be.

Stonzgrinda closed his eyes and breathed deep. Sage. Ancestors! How he loved the smell of sage under the sun, borne on the hot winds and red dust of the Barrens. Ancestors... Ancestors were descendants once, and descendants became ancestors in their due course. The sun circled the world, seasons changed, and generations passed. True to his word, Stonz had held the runes of command in trust, waiting for Kil'Gora's return. For six months, he had sworn to hold them. It was over twelve now, and a week past the third Kosh'harg since he had given his oath and taken that watch. He had kept his word. She had not returned. Warmistress Kil'Gora Darkhowl had passed into legend.

Stonz rolled the runes in his hand, sacred tokens of an honored warband. He would call the clan soon. It was time for them to choose a path, and who would lead them. Clenching his fist and the runes tight, Stonz stared into the distance. He thought about two particular pairs of eyes. One pair gold, one pair blue. He thought about descendants becoming ancestors, and whether duty was found more in death, or in life.

Without really thinking about it, he resumed rolling the runes over and over in his hand.

For a week now, she had re-read the letter. Every night, over and again, sleeping on it, only to come back to it again when the moon was high. It was a matter that wrenched her heart and tore at it still. Though for a long time now she had pulled herself away from Kalimdor, from the war and her people, the mere thought of them and the times long past still tugged at her like an inevitable destiny. She had left for a myriad of reasons. Family being the paramount one, but others as well. Her spirit was in dire need of peace, her heart simply could not bear the burden that had been placed upon her anymore. In the up-and-coming Hammerfall, where Thrall's rule of the Horde had once begun, there she had found a measure of rest. She was not entirely cut off from the world, but it had isolated her enough to become her haven.

She felt the thin, familiar fingers settling on her shoulder and she reached to touch them instinctively."Still undecided?""Yeah..."He sat down beside her, making her turn to see him, "You know that, no matter what you choose...""I know," she smiled, "A part of me doesn't want to. A part of me wants to hold on...""You have a choice.""Either choice pains me. You know this."

"Daaad!" A child called out from the doorway, holding his favorite foam sword in hand."Storytime? I'll be right there," he replied as he stood. He paused, pressing an affectionate kiss to her cheek, "I know you'll do what is right."

For a few minutes longer, Kil'Gora Darkhowl, former Warmistress of the Bloodfury Clan, sat there with the letter from the current leader and her loyal friend, Stonzgrinda. She owed it to him, owed it to them all, to reply. She took her husband's quill, dipping it in some ink and rolling out some parchment before she began.

"Lok'tar Ogar, Stonzgrinda, brother, friend and now successor. May the Spirits be watching over you, now and always. My reply is late; I hope all you brothers and sisters understand the difficulty of this task, this simple letter. I am glad the Bloodfury stands, few though ever strong and proud of our tabard, our name and our ancestry. That is what the name Bloodfury boils down to, brother: preserving the essence of Orcish nature even in these times of constant change. I have been made aware of the many conflicts that assail the Horde and Azeroth, and especially the Horde Warchief, Garrosh Hellscream. I will say now that this is the moment of truth for the Bloodfury Clan, where you must prove your loyalty not to the Warchief or to the Horde, but to yourselves and our ancestors. No matter the order, keep true to the lessons we earned from Thrall over the years, and tread on, mighty and proud.

"As for your report, I will address point for point. I understand that leadership would have been a problem with my leave. I am deeply grateful for your loyalty and courage in taking the Runes of Command - of those that remain, only Torgal and you live up to the promise of a great leader for our clan. Recruiting is difficult - it always was. Remember, however, that though you may be few, what we fight for cannot be taken from us nor replaced, even by the Horde warmachine. We fight for something greater than simple bloodshed, conquest, even survival. We fight to keep the essence of our spirit.

"The Vanguard was important to me, yes, and I will never forget the times and the bonds that we shared. The alliegance remains in our hearts, but even before my leave it was made apparent that the tribes needed to walk their own paths and find their own strength. Though loyalty is one of the most valuable things, to lean on one another does our strength no justice - each of us must face our own hardships and in their turmoil find that strength. Send them a fair greeting and the blessings of the Spirits.

"In regards to Clan Blackrock, I watched helplessly as they turned into what seemed barbarians rather than Orcs. It was in time that they would collapse under their own weight, and inevitable that some would come to you for guidance. I never turned the efforts of an honest Orc, though kept myself ever watchful of those with a questionable past. As such, so must you. I deeply regret that my nieces became involved in this - I was informed of Leppender's passing and grieve her yet - and hope they will find their paths back to us in time.

"My greetings to Sisanej and a firm salute to her dedication and loyalty. It is for beings such as these that we press on, brother. Remain comitted to Thrall's principles and the way of our ancestors - though most have been drawn into Hellscream's war, I know well others yearn for times past and the dignity that Orcs held under Thrall's rule. Never abandon that promise. Remind Orcs of the importance of the Spirits and the Kosh'harg - remind them of our past mistakes so we may not repeat them.

"Lastly, judge not those who would stain my name to call me deserter. They are in their right to, and if I was in their position, I would be as infuriated as they. Understand how conflicting this is to me, however. I love the Bloodfury Clan with all my being, and would like nothing more than to return to your side, Warmistress or not, to fight and uphold our ideals and our ancestry. However, the weight of many years of service finally crushed me - I found, I am not invincible. None of us are. The young fight and train, they press on to find the glorious death that every warrior deserves. Those of us who remain, the old and the jaded, fight our own selves. This is where I stand, fighting my own demons as I rise to the task of bringing new life to this world - my child is well and will someday join the Bloodfury as I once did.

"But I digress. On the topic of the Bloodfury's leadership, I must say, wait no longer. I will not stand for our brothers and sisters to hold on to hope when it is they who could be shaping our present and our future. They who remain, loyal, strong and proud, deserve this opportunity more than anyone. Take counsel with Torgal and Nawzkullz; our Seer will not lead you astray. It was anger at our previous leader's desertion that lead me to take on the leadership of our Clan as zealously as I did. As such, let them think of me and call me as they may, for it is their zealous love for the Clan that will spring a leader anew that will live up to the challenge. This said, my message to the clan is this:

" 'Many of you know me through word of mouth. Many have heard stories. They call me deserter. They call me legend. I call myself an Orc. Strong, but also flawed. For years I have lead the Bloodfury Clan with all the pride and the strength with which the Spirits blessed me. For years, I persevered and fought on for the ideals that we all hold close to our hearts. I am not there, and this must anger you all. But my heart has not abandoned you. Forever, I will be Bloodfury, and my grave will bear my tabard until the winds tear it apart and the earth has consumed it along with my body. However, this is not an excuse; simply a pledge of loyalty. I have given my all to the Clan - it is now all your turns to show what your all can do for our people. Keep fighting, brothers and sisters. Through war, this world will be purified. Yet in the midst of battle, when your axe meets the steel of our foes' relentless sword, when spells spark through the air and blood splatters upon the earth, always remember what we fight for. Glory, survival, pride, freedom are worthy causes. But above all things, honor our ancestors. Fight in your name as well as their own. Carry on their wills, if it moves you; carry on your will, if it is your desire. And if from the ashes I should rise, take up my blade and fight alongside you, think of me not as savior or traitor. Think of me as an Orc that returns to the fight to put an end to her life the way we all must - fighting.'

"Relay this message, brother. For you, I will always be available should you seek counsel or encouragement. I am always in the service of the Bloodfury. All that I ask is that you carry on and make me proud - though you already have. Lok'tar Ogar, dear Stonzgrinda. Send my regards to Torgal, for I love him still. And to our Clan; Victory or Death.

Yours,Kil'Gora DarkhowlFormer Warmistressof the Bloodfury Clan"

Kil'Gora leaned back from the letter, letting the quill fall to the side. She did not bother re-reading it, 'lest she change her mind. Sprinkling sand over the parchment and allowing the ink a moment to settle, she folded it then sealed it with wax. By the time she'd walked over, her child, Gunheya, was fast asleep whilst clutching his foam sword. Selris met her and in his hands she placed the letter.

"No regrets," she said with a smile even as her eyes glistened with tears.

For perhaps the fiftieth time, Sergeant Stonzgrinda, acting Warchief of the Bloodfury Clan and a simple grunt at heart, reread the former Warmistress' letter. It was not what he had hoped for. It was what he had expected.

Slowly, he drummed his fingers on the cracked pavise that served as a desk. The drumming stopped when he realized it was the cadence of a dirge; an execution march. By act of will, the picked up to something martial. Still grim, but fierce and tribal. Determined. Something from the old days. Before the Deception, when orcs wore leather and pelts for armor, and fought orc to orc with weapons of wood, stone and bronze. He let the sound carry him away, and the simple drumming thread was gradually increased with the sound of chants, deep, guttural and aggressive from males, with clearer and taunting antiphonal responses from females. Dimly he could see them. The line of ancestors reaching back further than he could see. Perhaps a shaman could see further. Perhaps not. The ancestors were all facing towards him, but not looking at him. They were looking past him, and cheering.

He turned and saw the orcs he knew in this day and age. Most were of his clan. A few were not. Two stood to either side of him. One with blue eyes. One with gold. One with two differently colored eyes stood just behind him, looking through him. They all faced in the same direction as the ancestors, but unmoving and unresponsive. None of the orcs he knew moved. Not one. He looked in the direction they and the ancestors gazed and saw the silhouettes of more orcs, stretching forward beyond the distance he could see. Dim. Shadows. Mere outlines. Descendants? He wondered if any in that multitude were his, or of the orcs on either side of him. Regardless, there would be descendants! There was a future for his people, a future that reached beyond the immediate shadows. He arched back, face towards the sky, his arms and his axe lifted high as he joined the males' chants. He sang with the ancestors! He...

He sat at his crate and pavise desk, head thrown back, arms upraised, and tears coursing down his cheeks. He blinked. A vision. A vision, or a prayer. Or simple fatigues. Warriors did not have visions. Visions were not covered in the protocols. Stonz pulled the iron crown off of his head. He had adopted it instead of a helmet when allies in the Eastern Kingdom had expressed doubt that Bloodfury had any leadership at all. The bit of iron had mollified them, when explanations of duty and overwatch had not. He set the circlet at his right hand, and Kil'Gora's letter on his left. Equidistant, between and below them, he set a fresh sheet of parchment, and began to write. He glanced from one point of the triangle to the other, as he thought and wrote:

ORDER OF THE DAY

Lok'tar ogar, all Bloodfury Clan!

1) Word has been received from the Warmistress Kil'Gora Darkhowl. She has received a promotion, and is on active duty on a vital mission that contributes to the survival of our people. She has resigned her commission as Warmistress of the Bloodfury Clan. She will not be returning to us. If any of you wish to carp about her absence, or lack of commitment to the Horde, our clan or our race, your next words will be on your knees, explaining to me why you should not be dishonorably discharged from our clan, with no hope of return. I doubt you will find the words. Do not test me.

2) Given the definite resignation of Warmistress Kil'Gora Darkhowl (ret.), we have come to the point of deciding on a permanent successor and leader. I could keep the Runes of Command, but honor dictates to me that the Clan as a whole, or as much as may be assembled, shall decide. We are a warband of comrades, and the decision will be made amongst ourselves.

3) Accordingly: ALL BLOODFURY ORCS AVAILABLE FOR SERVICE ARE CALLED TO A CLAN MEETING THIS NIGHT AT THE SHRINE OF THE FALLEN WARRIOR, 21st HOUR OF THE DAY. A VOTE WILL BE TAKEN TO DETERMINE THE PERMANENT LEADERSHIP OF THIS CLAN. LEADERSHIP WILL NOT BE PASSED TO ANY WHO WILL NOT SWEAR TO PRESERVE, BUILD AND SERVE THE CLAN, OUR IDEALS, AND OUR HONOR. ONLY RECENTLY ACTIVE ORCS MAY BE ELIGIBLE EITHER TO LEAD OR TO VOTE.

4) We have a few orcs who have been slack in their duties. They have appeared, they sport the trophies and wealth of Pandaria, but contributed nothing to Bloodfury Clan for entire seasons in the past and up to this very day. Those orcs know who they are. They will return to the colors within one week's time or be dismissed, if I am confirmed as Warchief. I weary of your idleness, and your comrades have pulled you far enough. It is time for you to get in harness and help pull, or to find another tabard to wear.

Aka'magosh, my brothers and my sisters.

Sergeant Stonzgrinda, Acting Commander of the Bloodfury Clan.

Having finished, he looked across the room where an orc sat on the floor, watching him. Looking into her gold eyes, he pushed the two parchments towards her. "See that these are posted immediately." She rose and crossed over to take them, her footsteps as soft as his voice. She took them and bowed, and left without a word.

He pulled the iron crown towards himself, and turned it around and around on the pavise top, thinking of ancestors and descendants, and the passing of torches from one hand to another. What would be, would be.

The Clan meeting was quite small, with most of the clan away for one reason or another.

At the end, from the Shrine to the Fallen Warrior, Stonzgrinda walked away to the East, rolling his shoulders and looking tired. He was acting Warchief of Bloodfury Clan no more, and never would be again.

Torgal, Narata and Zhorkosh looked at each other, forcing some small talk, and discussing where they would go on their separate ways. Zhorkosh left first, and after bidding her goodbyes walked away to the West.

Sisanej has returned from her brief leave of absence to find the Clan much more lively and in higher spirits than when she had left. Upon returning Sisa was quickly invited by Chander to join the Clan for an informal gathering in Razor Hill to drink and tell tales. She arrived as quickly as she could to see her Clan once again, only stopping briefly to purchase some Firewater in Origrimmar. With so many orcs in one place, odds were the inn keeper would be sold out before she arrived. Stocking up would be a good idea.

She entered the inn of Razor Hill to find two of the clans newest recruits, Chander, and Natura sitting around the small table drinking large mugs of ale and chatting up the small inn. Her heart lept with pride seeing her Clan once more, she would not remove her helmet until she could wipe the smile from her face. Once she regained her composure She pulled off her helmet and joined the clan, sitting on the floor around the small wooden table. Sisa pulled the cork from her pouch of firewater and began drinking before joining in the idle chat with her Clan.

The gathering was warm and welcoming. Sisa was feeling quite relaxed for the first time in months, that is to say until Hulkababy came strutting into the inn. Hulk roared his greeting to the group "Lok'tar Bloodfury!" as his pet ran about the inn seemingly delighted to be indoors for the first time in many months.

Seeing Hulk reminded Sisa of her past more so than anything else. The two were quite close friends at one time in their old Clan, The Dark Horde. Sisa sighed within herself before setting her nearly depleted pouch of firewater on the table and pushing it away. The stories being told around the table became back ground noise in her head as she looked at all of the red tabards and smiling faces surrounding her. She could not help but to reflect back to when she had met the her first living member of the Bloodfury Clan.

Just over a year ago, Sisa and her closest friend at the time Ziyra sat on the hillside of Stonewatch Keep. The pair discussed personal matters, military tactics, and ofcourse their favorite subjects, Warlord Ripgut. After sharing a laugh at the expense of the Black rock orcs below toiling away in the dirt at the bottom of the Keeps mountain, the two decided to return to Stonewatch Keep to check on the prisoners. Sisa marched towards the enterance with Ziyra close behind her. A large Orc Warrior stood in her path, who appeared to be just leaving the Keep. He did not wear the Colors of the Dark Horde and was an intruder! Yet did not act hostil, or as if he had done anything wrong. He quickly introduced himself and his intentions.

"Lok'tar Mogash! I am Sergeant Stonzgrinda, acting Commander of the Bloodfury Clan!" He salutes Sisa before continuing "I seek your Warlord and had hoped to find him here in his Keep."

Sisa's eyes widen under her black helmet she thinks to herself "The Bloodfury! They have survived the Cataclysm?! I thought them wiped out. This is truly a good day for Orcs everywhere." She looks admiringly at the crimson clad Warrior standing before her. Sisa returns the salute and finally remebers to introduce herself.

"I am Sisanej, an officer in the Dark Horde." She salutes the Warrior and quickly continues. "Our Warlord is away on business. I will let him know you had come in search of him Bloodfury Sergeant Stonzgrinda."

Sisa did not take her eyes from the Bloodfury warrior as he leapt onto his mount and rode down the mountainside. Sisa looked to her friend Ziyra smiling widely at her. Ziyra jokingly glared at Sisa "Cut dat out! You been havin' nuff troubles with da men already mon. Don you be lookin fa' more!" Sisa shrugs innocently while grinning wickedly at her friend. Ziyra chuckles softly and rolls her eyes as the two walk into the Keep to tend their duties...

Sisa is abruptly pulled from her precious memories by the distinct sound of some one urinating on the floor behind her! She roars with laughter at the sight of the inn keeper staring angrily at the group of orcs.

Hulkababy stormed away from the Pleasure Palace pool, upset and angry at Sisanej's lack of caring if he stayed or left. His warchief had been understanding, saluting the Hunter's departure and wishing him well in his hunt.

Not Sisanej. She blew him off like he was an after-thought; a second rate member of the clan. As if!

You have ignored her, Southpaw sent, the warworg's thoughts entering his Companion's mind. Everyone warned you, even that fighter Zhorkosh saw what was happening. What did you expect to happen? Fall at your feet like a beggar?

Mind your own business, Southpaw, Hulkababy sent back. I had my reasons for doing what I did.

Surely you do not mean honor, Southpaw replied. Such as staying with that group of barbarians calling themselves Dark Horde? The wolf made a laughing sort of noise. You carried the banner even after the Warlord ran abandoned the clan.

I had a duty to do so, Hulkababy replied. Sisanej and the rest left as well. She could have lifted the banner. She wanted to take control of the Bloodfury, that is the reason she abandoned the Dark Horde.

Believe what you want, Southpaw said. She was the best thing that happened to you since leaving Feralas, yet you tossed her away like a rotten melon.

Hulkababy whistled for his Drake. summoning it from it's diner of deer in one of the grassy fields. "It does not matter now," Hulkababy said. "That is over and done with. I came here seeking closure and instead got a chill."

Southpaw hopped into his portion of the saddle, his emotions blank and expressionless. Finding your name is not going to help, Southpaw sent. You have all you need with your current pack.

"Maybe," Hulkababy replied, sending the Drake into the sky with a snap of the reigns. "But I'm going to do so anyway."

Steam rose from the four inch wide gaping hole of the slain Night Elf soldier at his feet. It was the early hours just before sunrise and the forest of Ashenvale was quiet. The only sounds were that of the fading elf as she lie in a pool of blood gurgling and clinging on to life. The air was so crisp he could smell her blood in it, it was so cold he could feel the warmth of her hot steam against his bristled jaw. Slamming his shield into the ground the young orc sat beside his enemy. He was clearly not an orc from these parts, though he wore the Horde symbol proudly on his chest representing his Bloodfury Clan's banner. His skin was ashen, as if he rolled in the soot of an after fire, and stretched tightly over his lean rippling muscles. The orc drew a finger along the cadaver's hairline, her soft purple-ish skin set off by her light green hair. Down her soft cheek and her armor till he dipped his finger in her wound like an inkwell. He sat upright and began to wipe her blood into his Red Tabard and watch it disappear.

She so young. So purtty.I am no better then he is.

I'm a monster.That Blackrock Bastard, I will show him.

The young male Blackrock Orc was just a week long resident. Arriving in Kalimdor stowed away on boat his new friend Leheim and he waste no time in finding a home with the Bloodfury orcs. The orc stripped the elf nude and stashed her armor in a satchel he slung over his shoulder. A short trot later and the young orc was strapping down everything tightly to his Mechano Hog. Firing up the smog shootin' machine he set off for Splintertree Post.

Will they ever except me? A Blackrock in Bloodfury.I hate you father!!! You are a monster!I will never be like you!Warchief Stonzgrinda is my father now.

I make Bloodfury Orcs proud, I find pride in this new Horde!Warchief I am yours to command.You can coun't on Skumm!